A gentle breeze passed through the Snag’s backyard followed by an eerie silence.

Dan didn’t know how to answer Mark’s question. What do I say? I’m sorry, that sucks your parents were taken and possibly bleeding out? He hated long, awkward silences and loved breaking them with a joke or little quip, but this time he had nothing. No word to break the uncomfortable silence. He paced back and forth, patting down the grass with his feet into a disturbed dirt patch. Nothing came to mind. It was like his brain shut down.

Mark sighed and tightly held the scroll. His voice was trembling. “Where are they?”

Dan shook his head and cleared his throat that became sore as the muscles around it began to tighten. He looked at his friend who appeared defeated and tried to imagine what it would be like if his family was kidnapped in broad daylight. A slight smile curled onto his face followed by immediate dread and guilt.

Mark walked back to his home. His hand held up to cover his distraught face.

Dan followed him, trudging his feet along the way. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

Mark shook his head and solemnly stepped into the kitchen, precariously avoiding the trails of blood. He sat down on one of the stools and put his head down on a clear space of counter not covered in plate and glass fragments.

Crickle! Half of a broken drinking glass snapped into twenty pieces under Dan’s foot. He luckily didn’t get any shards into his foot as he carefully lifted his foot and found a clear space to step in. He stood next to Mark. His right hand balled up into a tense fist. His voice low and tense. “We’ll find them, Mark … and beat the living snot out of those birds.”

Mark placed the scroll on the counter and swiveled his head away from Dan. Through the scope of his imagination, a few reporters and detectives walked across the kitchen and investigated the blood stains and broken glass. Even though it was all in his mind, he couldn’t stop but feel on the edge of his seat as they progressed through the room and collected their evidence. Now it was “back to the lab” to figure out what the clues meant.

Impatient with the detective story going on in Mark’s head, Dan grabbed the scroll and unrolled it on the counter. The splattered inked words took a moment to comprehend. The crackling voice of the red bird read the words to him, tingling the inside of his head. Once it finished, the voice vanished and he was left with one question. “Who the heck is the Warlock of the Forest?”

Mark continued the investigation scene in his head. The investigators were nearing the end of their search and were questioning Mark, by the door. He wasn’t too impressed with his imagined haggard appearance. He slouched his bony shoulders that rested on the wall next to the busted screen door.

“So what did you see?” asked the investigator.

Mark looked around suspiciously. “I saw a flock of birds, but it was unlike anything I had seen before. I think I remember a description of theirs from some old mythology book.”

“What did they look like?” the investigator asked, licking the end of his pen and holding it a few inches above a small rectangular notepad.

Mark sighed. Looming beneath him like a growing shadow was the pool of blood. He ran his right hand through his shaggy hair that appeared a bit longer and shaggier in his imagined form. “I saw a sketch of them before… the beaks looked like …. “ It dawned on him with the swiftness of a lightning strike. The show took an unexpected intermission. His mind went dark and empty, erasing the investigation scene with complete darkness. “The birds. They were an ancient species.” His voice echoed into the darkness. Images of memories appeared within the darkness. One was of his first poetry contest and he felt the anxious stomach before he went up on stage. Sketches of birds with the same sharp beaks and craggy looking heads. “That’s it!”

Mark got up, ran across the kitchen and up the narrow staircase by the fridge.

“Mark?” Dan called out to him. It all went silent. He sighed, left alone in the kitchen. “Okay? ….” He rolled up the scroll, held it in his hand, and went upstairs. The stairwell smelled like a musty basement and lined along the walls were framed family photos. There was one for every year and only one. Dan kept an eye on them as the Snag children grew older, specifically one with long blond hair and a smile that made him feel like he could lift a building.

Dan reached Mark’s bedroom that was the second from the last door in a narrow hall. Sitting on his bed with a thick volume opened in his lap, Mark seemed mesmerized by the old, dusty pages. “So what is it?”

Mark was quiet for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “I knew it … Bladecrows.”

“Bladecrows?”

“Yeah they were a species of bird that went extinct about a thousand years ago … but,”

“But what?”

Mark looked away and cleared his throat. “Extinct means end of existence. How can one … well hundreds be alive now.”

“So some ancient bird that’s supposed to be extinct spoke to us about your parents being in some messed up place?”

“Apparently so … quite fascinating huh? … It’s amazing they were in such great numbers as well.”

Dan didn’t know what to do. Magical people and ancient beasts were certainly not his forte. He couldn’t even remember the last book he read.

Mark closed the volume and looked over at Dan. “We need to call the cops.” His eyes lit up with renewed energy. “I need to call them now before it’s too late.” He ran into the hall and back downstairs.

Dan was stupefied. “What?! … Hold up!”

Along the wall in the kitchen next to the family refrigerator hung a brown rotary phone. Mark looped his finger in the circular groove and dialed the universal number for the police.

A searing pain entered Dan’s right hand like his fingers lit on fire. He whipped his hand down and thrown like a baseball, the scroll bounced on the ground. A faint light glowed from inside the curled paper. “Son of a …” Dan exclaimed.

He was silenced as something truly unexpected happened. The scroll lifted off the ground by an unseen force and hovered in front of Dan’s face. In bright, golden letters was a phrase from the Warlock’s Message.

No one else should know of your journey

“What the hell?”

Dan was the wrong person to put into a tight position especially if you were to fight against him. He balled up his right hand into a fist and punched at the note. “Stupid letter!” It spewed out sparks, staggered to the left and right like a drunkard, and then curled up and fell to the floor.

“Magic’s … real?” Dan couldn’t believe what he had just seen.

Ahh! A shout came from the kitchen.

“What now?” Dan grumbled. He looked down at the scroll. He froze for a moment. How did it know Mark was about to call the cops? What is inside this thing? Even if he came up with a thousand excuses to leave the scroll on the floor, he knew that they would eventually need it. He picked up the scroll and tucked it into the side of his pants. The burning pain ebbed away from his hand.

“Dan, get in here, man,” shouted Mark.

The kitchen was still a horrific mess. All that was missing was the police’s yellow tape, marking it off and it would look truly like a crime scene. Mark was leaned up against the kitchen counter. A hand placed on the left side of his head.

“What happened?” Dan asked

Mark pointed to the phone. “I was trying to call the cops and the stupid phone burned the side of my face.”

The receiver was unhooked and dangling a few feet from the floor.

Dan picked it up and put it back on the mount. The handle was a bit warm. “So, did you get a hold of anybody?”

Mark shook his head.

“So … we’re on our own.” Chills ran down Dan’s spine.

Mark was breathing heavily. His eyes tearing up. “What is going on? … I can’t even call the cops now?”

Dan pulled out the scroll. “Well like a second ago, this floated in mid-air and – “ he pointed to the exact spot. “this line was glowing like fire.”

Mark read the line to himself. His eyes were wide with fear. “What the hell? … You said it was floating in mid-air with that phrase glowing like fire? … Are you seeing things?”

“That’s what I thought until you said the phone burned your head,” Dan exclaimed. He rolled up the scroll and put it into his pocket.

Mark’s voice mumbled at first and rose with excitement. “Then that means magic is real? … Magic is real! … I knew it, I knew it was real.” He smiled and playfully shoved Dan. “I told you.”

Dan patted down his polo, clearing off the dirt on an embroidered single reed over his chest. The shirt had started to dry and dirt and pieces of food had caked on parts of it. Dan didn’t seemed to notice it at first. “Yes, magic is real. I admit it. … You happy?”

Mark frowned and walked toward the broken screen door. Finally, there was evidence of real magic. He knew that the stories must have been true. He felt squeamish as he leaned on the door frame.

“You alright?” Dan asked.

“Yeah … just need a moment.” Mark’s excitement died with the force of a strong wind extinguishing a candle. Magic could have been used to take Mom and Dad. There was nothing like this in the hundreds of volumes that he had consumed on all those days by the pond. Nothing to prepare him on how to react or feel. It all had to be inertial and purely reflex. Mark just wanted to bury himself within the vast worlds of his books where every story is predictable and safe, but there was no escape hatch or guide to whisk him away. This was really happening.

Crickle! Crackle! The broken glasses and plates were crushed under Dan’s pacing feet, leaving small cuts along his scales. His shorts were still cold and wet from his morning dip. Which didn’t make him feel like sitting down any time soon. “We can’t talk to anyone about this … but I’m sure my dad could get a hold of Mr. Rotmyre and then the whole place will be covered with police officers looking for them.” By instinct Dan reached out for the phone, he grabbed the receiver and was about to pull it off the hook, but he stopped. That stupid warlock probably will burn my face off. He felt the receiver begin to heat up with a burning energy and he hung it up. He punched the wall next to the phone and grabbed a frozen steak that was half defrosted on the floor and threw it across the kitchen over at the dining room table. With a low shout, Dan let out his frustration. “We can’t do anything!”

Mark was unfazed by the piece of meat that almost smacked him in the head and grimaced as the burning pain surged through his face and then slowly subsided. He regained his focus and tried to analyze the situation. We’re alone with nothing but a riddle to aid us in finding my parents. A riddle that apparently lights up on fire. He eyed the scroll in Dan’s pocket. “Dan, now did that thing start to float right after I talked to you or was it later?”

Dan calmed down and shrugged his shoulders. “I think it was almost right after. I realized that the note said something about not finding help and that’s when I ran after you and the scroll burned in my hand.”

“Hmm,” Mark scratched his chin, “So this scroll has either a spell that waits for certain words to be said or certain actions to be performed within its vicinity. Which means it can be spying on us and listening in on us.”

“Then we should throw it away, right?” Dan said, pulling out the scroll and holding over the sink.

Mark didn’t know what to say next. Either decision was a good one, but he didn’t know which one to say. It was good to keep to let them know when they were doing something the warlock of the forest didn’t want them to do or it could be bad since it is giving the warlock loads of information about themselves that could be used against them later. He spent the better of a minute trying to think of a solution.

Dan grew impatient. “Fine, we’ll keep it until we figure out what the hell to do with it, okay?”

Mark nodded with his head down, unhappy that he didn’t make the decision himself.

Dan looked around the house, creating a list of options. It was pretty short. Go into the forest or stay home. Once that was done, he then tried to remember in how many days was their deadline. Was it five or six days? He pulled out the scroll and took a look at it and exasperated, “We need to find them in seven days?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah… I think that’s what it said, but the forest is huge. We can’t be expected to just walk in there without a heading.” He walked over, grabbed the scroll from Dan, and began to delve deep into its mysteries. “So the first part is talking about the Clash War, that’s easy enough … Fierston was a god in ancient Amphius, but what was he the god of?” Mark took a moment to find the answer in the deep recesses of his memories. “of …. Fire, I think. So … the GREAT FIRE! The fire that ended the war!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that. Everyone pretty much died, didn’t they?”

Mark nodded and smiled. An odd time to do either considering what they were talking about, but any clue to finding where the Snags were taken deserved at least a smirk. It didn’t last long as his smile drooped down. “But the only thing … is where did the fire start?”

Dan shook his head. “Hang on … you don’t know where it started? You know everything.”

Mark nodded. “I know, but that is one of the only things that wasn’t discovered. Historians came up with theories, but none were proven. No one really knows what happened that day. Don’t you listen in history class?”

Dan guffawed. “Of course, I do. I just don’t remember it all.” He needed to change the subject. “So we go in there and hope to find them.”

Mark was quiet. Happy to know Dan was there to help him. He couldn’t think of doing this on his own. It would have been unbearable. With Dan he could focus on other things, beside the fact that his parents were forcibly taken away and injured. Riddles were such a complicated way of communicating like a puzzle with words, making it just perfect for Mark. An odd feeling tingled in the deepest part of his stomach. Nothing can motivate someone more to solve a riddle than it be to find their kidnapped and possibly tortured parents. Mark was good at thinking logically instead of emotionally, but this was a struggle beyond anything he had faced before. He took a few deep breaths, to lighten the tension on his stomach and studied the scroll a bit longer.

Dan looked around the kitchen. “We’re going to need to pack some food … I’ll check what’s left in the fridge.” He perused through the first few shelves, sifted through a few days old milk and imported seaweed, and took a few packs of bacon, a small container of carrots and a loaf of bread – most likely from the farm that Mark’s father, Jimmy Sr., was currently working, and put them all on the kitchen counter. “Okay, Mark I found some food … Do you have any bags we can put these in?”

Mark nodded, still entranced by the words on the scroll.

“Well, where are they?”

Mark was quiet for a moment.

“Mark!”

Mark shook awake. “Yeah, umm … there’s one in my room and I’m sure Junior or Ralphie have one.”

“Alright, I’ll go look for them. Let me know if there are any clues to where we should start looking.” Dan upturned nearly everything in Mark’s bedroom for the bag, which was tucked under his bed. It was black and kept in pretty good condition. Dan went for Ralphie’s room next. He felt if either of Mark’s brothers got mad they took their bag, he could take on the younger one in a fight. Dan pretty much used that philosophy throughout most of his life. Ralphie’s room wasn’t any easier to search through. Underneath piles of dirty laundry and hand me down toys and action figures, Ralphie’s bookbag lay hidden. It was light blue, with hand me down holes and tatters and one functioning strap. “Well this one will be Mark’s. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Dan returned to the kitchen and filled up “his” new black bag. He made sure to leave Mark a few items to put into his old tattered one. “So, anything…..?”

Mark was talking to himself, working out the riddles of the message. His mind was too preoccupied to answer Dan.

Dan needed to do something. He looked back at the phone. The idea formed in his head like a billowing cloud, and he smiled. He looked back at Mark and excitedly pointed at the phone. “I think I know how to get a hold of the cops.”

Mark twisted his head with a look of utter confusion. “What?”

“I think if we dial the number and don’t touch the phone then we can’t be burned while trying to talk to them.”

Mark raised his lower lip and nodded. “Hmm …. Brilliant.” It was certainly a surprise to hear Dan come up with such a witty idea.

Dan already unhooked the receiver and let it dangle by its cord. He looped his finger in the dial and put in the 9 – 1 – 1 – 9 emergency number. Now all they had to do is wait and hope the plan worked. The phone rang a few times. Dan was tense, biting his upper lip. “Come on…’

The phone ringed a few more times.

“Come on… Come on…”

A kind, pleasant voice crackled from the upside-down receiver. “Hello, this is Marie from the Rockliffe Police Department. What is your emergency?”

Dan’s face lit up. “Yes, I’m Daniel Longreed … The Snags … they were kidnapped! We’re here in Edora Pond!”

“Okay, Mr. Longreed, there was already a call – .” The message was interrupted. The receiver and the phone had turned into a burning orange and bulged outward like an inflated balloon.

Dan ran behind the kitchen counter. “Mark get down!”

Boom! The phone exploded with the pop sound of a gunshot. Metal and plastic shrapnel shot out and sizzled on the kitchen floor.

“AHH!” Mark let go of the burning scroll in his hand. It was hovering by his snout with the same highlighted warning.

Dan chucked a few broken pieces of plates and glass out toward the broken screen door in frustration. “Okay, I got it. We can’t let anyone else know! Dammit!”

Mark caught the scroll once the highlighted message faded and rolled it up. The magical safeguards were impressive. Terrifying, but impressive. He looked over at the smoldering, scorched remains of the phone on the wall. “Unbelievable.” Then a look of complete dread filled his face. “That was our first phone. My parents are going to kill me.”

Dan raised his upper lip, revealing his few dagger-like teeth. “I can’t wait to find this warlock and blow something up in HIS face.”

Mark tucked the scroll in the side of his pants like he did before and reached over to the blue bag. “This is Ralphie’s. Where’s mine?”

Dan pointed at the bag. “That is yours.”

Mark scowled, revealing his fine row of pearly whites. “Where’s my bag, Dan?” He noticed the familiar black strap over Dan’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what you mean? That’s the one I found in your room.”

Mark decided to let it go and picked up the raggedy blue bag and filled it with the food on the counter. Classic Longreeds. Egotistical with a side of narcissism. For someone who doesn’t like them, You certainly act like one. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it in person, fearing a punch to the face.

Dan walked over the kitchen counter and pulled opened its drawers. “We need to get some forks and knives … a flashlight. A few other things as well.”

Mark nodded and followed Dan around the kitchen like a lapdog, carrying things in his arms that Dan would pile without looking.

Within five minutes they had filled their bags to the brim with clothes, flashlights (One had a deep crack in the glass), silverware, a few books (Mark’s of course), and two worn down sleeping bags.

Out of all the supplies, Dan had the one in better condition while Mark was left off with the leftovers, something Mark was far too familiar with. Heck, the pants he was wearing used to be his older brother, Junior’s.

They stood back in the kitchen with their heavy bags over their shoulders. Mark had patched up some holes in his brother’s bag with a red cloth and a wide stitching pattern, creating a unique block design.

Dan looked around the kitchen one more time. “Alright, … let’s go.” He walked through the screen door and back into the backyard.

Mark followed him. “Wait! … What about your family, Dan? … They’re going to want to know where you are.”

Dan stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s best if they don’t know where I am.”

Mark shook his head. “What happened between you guys last night?”

“Nothing.”

Reerooh Reeroh! A police siren echoed across the pond.

“They’re here,” Dan whispered.

“Great, we have help!” Mark beamed.

Dan grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him toward the forest.

“What are you doing?! … Let me go.” Mark called out.

Dan placed a hand over his friend’s long snout. “Shh … they can’t know, remember?”

Mark struggled under Dan’s grasp as if Dan was trying to suffocate him.

Dan held his grasp until he heard the sirens stop. “You promise not to yell?”

Mark nodded feverishly.

“Okay, but I’m going to keep an eye on you. I don’t want that damn note to burn me again.”

Mark calmed down and slouched in Dan’s grasp.

Dan let go and Mark scurried over to the side. He took a few deep breaths. “We should tell them!”

Dan flashed his eyes from Mark to the Snag cottage, but he didn’t see the expected red and blue glow of police lights. His curiosity pulled him to the right side of the cottage and up the Langshard Roadway. He saw the black and white police car parked outside the Siltmoor estate. “Why are the cops at my house?”

“Didn’t the lady from the police station say they already received a call? .. . What if it was your parents? What if those workers on your estate were going crazy because something happened to your parents? … Maybe they tried to call my house and the phone was off the hook – “ Mark stopped as he silently pondered something.

“Or exploded off the hook,” Dan snarled.

Mark shook his head. “You have to go back home, Dan. I can’t have you stay here on my behalf.”

“What are you talking about? … I can’t go back because if I do I’ll probably blow up into a thousand pieces like that stupid phone,” Dan exclaimed.

“That’s the thing,” Mark said. “You haven’t blown up or burned up on your own. What if the reason for that is …. Is because one of the messages was also meant for you.”

Dan guffawed. “What are you trying to say Mark?

Mark sighed. “I don’t know.”

“What are you trying to say, Mark?!”

Mark swallowed something into his throat and was silent.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that one of your parents may have been taken too?”

Dan took a step back and replied in a soft voice. “You think so?”

Mark nodded. “Yes. The evidence suggests it.”

Dan stopped to think for a moment as he looked back at his bedroom window shimmering in the morning sunlight. “I’m going with you.”

“Okay, so come with me, but I can’t promise this is going to be easy.”

“Never said it was going to be.” Dan patted down his pants then sighed. “I wish I brought a compass. Do you guys have one at your house?”

Mark took a moment to weave through the house in his mind, thinking of a compass. He went through the entire first and second floor, closets, kitchen, and cabinets. He shook his head. “I don’t think we ever had one.”

“Great! So we won’t be able to catch our bearings.” He sighed once more and adjusted his strap. The forest was sitting there, waiting for them. Ready for them within its dark maw. A few spruce branches twitched in the breeze as Dan looked over at Mark. A confident grin on his face. “Let’s go.”

Next Chapter: 3- Tangleroot and the Tinkerer